4 Wings Angel Novels & Stories

When the doctor walked out of the room and passed the glass windows on the hallway, only then was Jay able to see the red wings attached to the doctor's back that didn't show up physically. A celestial being with a pair of red wings. As far as Jay could remember, only two types of wings colors he had ever seen in the Kingdom. White wings symbolized an Angel in its purest form, while black wings symbolize an Angel fallen from their grace. Jay had never seen any celestial beings with red wings before. More importantly, why a celestial being showed interest in a mortal man? Jay let the time flow once again. He looked outside the window, thinking about the doctor and why he was interested in Lia

Angels with strange wings. If I am not mistaken, they are Angels of satan. The Angels cast into the blazing fires of hell. The sinned one. While I was on a stage in the middle of the arena. My hands and feet were bound. It was as if I had been crucified because of the position of my tie while Eron was in front of me, he's floating in the air with his beautiful black wings staring down at me with his dangerous hazel brown eyes.

The sound of wings flapping from above draws my eyes up as I follow the shape of something black and mammoth as it lands only feet away from Dominic and me. I blink several times, pushing the hair from my eyes, as Archangel Michael stands before us, grandiose and stunning. I can't help but stare at his massive, black wings in awe, folding together behind him in glistening highlights of blue. A glow of white and yellow auras outlines his extensive frame as he respectfully nods in the direction of the Seraph Council before returning his attention to us.

I drift my eyes to where I last saw Tee, Angel is there, she's talking to her friend who is dressed as Chucky. Angel is dressed as an Angel, I know, very cliche but at least it's a dark angel, it's black wings are not too spreaded and thank luck because she'd be hitting people with them. She wears a short white prom dress to compliment her wings, I hate to admit it but it's sexy and definitely not a try hard costume.

“You have crumbled my wing!” Angela stood up from the thing and helped it up. “I am sorry I did not mean to hurt you but…” Angela got cut from her words when she raised her head and looked at all the winged beings in her front. There were dozens of them. She did not believe what she was seeing. “What the…” she asked herself taking her eyes from one-winged being to another. They were beautiful but strange. They had different weird-looking hairstyles, clothes, colors of eyes, skin, and hair…everything was weird about them but the butterfly wings they had on their body was what really wowed her.

With a dull boom, dazzling fireworks exploded across the night sky, shattering into millions of starlights before slowly falling away. The shifting light painted Victor’s profile in flickers of brightness and shadow, like something out of a dream. He wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder as he murmured, “Do you like it? I prepared this just for you.” I stared at the brilliant yet fleeting display, and an uncontrollable sadness hit me. This grand beauty felt just like the time I had with Victor; it was gorgeous but destined to disappear.

One of my mother’s cabinets lay shattered across the floor, and beside it stood a very angry angel of Hell. Only now could I truly take him in. His wings—those dark feathers—had been torn and frayed by the concrete when I carried him. The black edges were ragged, uneven. His thick hair was tangled, his shirt wrinkled and torn. Towering nearly two meters tall, he loomed over me, his pitch-black eyes fixed on the sky outside the window. His face was sharply defined, every line carved with strength and masculinity. He was terrifying—and yet, unbearably beautiful.

We drove the dagger and shard into the ground, light erupting, the cage shattering, the mirror collapsing, the void’s scream—my scream—mixing with hers, the shadow’s, as they vanished, not gone but pushed back, the chaos retreating, the cliffs stilling. We fell, Lucian catching me, Lyra beside us, the bond burning—us, alive, together. Killian and Mara staggered up, bloodied, wide-eyed. “Another one?” Killian gasped, his staff broken, his face pale. “How many damn Angels are there?” I clutched the dagger, the mark pulsing, Lyra’s shard glowing, the bond steadying me. “Four,” I said, my voice hoarse, the truth crushing me. “Lock, spark, flame, void. The Veil’s not just breaking—it’s us.”

She was too innocent for him. He laughed out at his words. Innocent for Ronald? She was too innocent for him, Greg, as well! He knew he wasn't a saint but he would never hurt her. Pure angels like her were not meant to be hurt but treated as the delicate beings that they were. He would surely make her his and his alone. And no man would stand in his way. ❤❤❤

she said with a gentle smile. "What am I?" "You are an angel, capable of good and evil. Angel's like you are born every hundred years. Your purpose on earth is to bring peace to all. From what I have seen, you seem to be a very pure being, but at the same time there is a darkness swallowing you whole. You must never succumb to your dark side or else you could be the end of all living things" she explained. "An angel?" I asked bewildered. "Yes. That's the reason why your wolf is white, it represents your angel side. You are the only white wolf in the entire world"